


Season 3, Episode 4:  'Devils You Know'

by SHIELDAgentMD



Series: Agents of SHIELD - Episodes [12]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Corporal Punishment, F/F, Fluff, Recovery, Spanking, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26447164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHIELDAgentMD/pseuds/SHIELDAgentMD
Summary: While recovering from her harrowing stay on Maveth, Jemma is plagued with guilt over sharp words/accusations aimed at Bobbi, her Supervising Officer.  She seeks out the strong agent with a plea to make amends, and to get things ‘back to normal’.
Relationships: Bobbi Morse & Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons, Melinda May & Jemma Simmons
Series: Agents of SHIELD - Episodes [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/331219
Comments: 13
Kudos: 44





	Season 3, Episode 4:  'Devils You Know'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fizzan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzan/gifts).



> Well hey, I just learned that we can dedicate or gift our works to people! I have chosen to dedicate this work to fizzan, whose 'Consequences' series and other Marvel stories I have read through probably 10 times, and I love them every time. Check out their work, if you like mine! I feel like we have similar minds and styles. Kudos to fizzan! :)

**Marvel’s Agents of SHEILD**

**Season 3, Episode 4: Devils You Know**

This story contains corporal discipline (spanking) between two consenting adult females. If that is not your thing, no problem… go no further. This is a fanfic based upon the incredible television series, Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., specifically Season 3, Episode 4: "Devils You Know". I do not own rights to any of the ‘Marvel-ous’ characters or plot lines, this is simply a work of fan fiction. **All writing in italics is direct script/actions from the show, and is not my creation. Enjoy**!

Summary: While recovering from her harrowed stay on _Maveth_ , Jemma is plagued with guilt over sharp words/accusations aimed at Bobbi, her Supervising Officer. She seeks out the strong agent with a plea to make amends, and to get things ‘back to normal’.

**_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_ **

_Fitz, rifling through a binder: “What’s all this? Data on the monolith. Schematics. There’s notes all over this in Simmons’ handwriting! Seismic mounts, cry—“_

_Jemma rushes into the lab, looking angry: “What are you doing??”_

_Fitz: “Jemma, I’m just trying to—“_

_Jemma: “No, don’t. Look, those are mine and now they’re all out of order.” To Bobbi, sharply: “And you—what did you tell him?!”_

_Bobbi, startled: “Jemma, relax. We’re—we’re just analyzing the Inhuman’s DNA.”_

_Fitz: “All this data—what’s it for?”_

_Jemma, frustrated, snatching the papers from Fitz: “Look, just stay away from my things.”_

**_…_ **

_Later: Jemma enters the training room in search of Bobbi. She finds her finishing up a workout. Jemma seems strained: tired and nervous._

**_…_ **

_Jemma: “I’m sorry I snapped before.”_

_Bobbi: “No, no apology necessary.”_

_Jemma: “I thought you told Fitz what I told you and I…”_

_Bobbi: “Jemma, seriously… stop.”_

Simmons quietens and fidgets for a long moment.

_Bobbi: “I mean, here I am complaining to you, after what you’ve been through.”_

_Jemma looks yet more uncomfortable and irritably pushes a lock of hair behind her ear._

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Bobbi frowns, pausing her towel-down. “Jemma… what is it? What’s wrong?”

Simmons swallows hard, looking nervous. “I… I just… I just thought, or well, hoped… that if I ever made it back, that… that things would just go back to normal. I just want things to be as they were again. To be… familiar… predictable.”

Morse takes a step closer to Jemma and gives her a careful look. “Well… you’ve been through something pretty major, honey. It’s going to take time to…”

“No,” Simmons shakes her head, carefully looking up into Bobbi’s eyes. “I-I’m not… I’m not talking about me.”

Morse blinks, then raises her eyebrows. “Oh. All right. Well… tell me more about that. What do you mean?” she asks, moving over to sit on an exercise bench.

Jemma rubs a spot on her arm absent-mindedly. “Well… for instance…” she begins nervously, following Morse with her head slightly bowed. “You… you would never have allowed me to snap at you like that… before,” she points out, then hangs her head.

A moment is needed to figure out what the biochemist is referring to, as Agent Morse stares at her. “Oh honey… is that what you’re worried about? I’m not upset with you for that, I underst…”

“But… you should be!” Simmons suddenly insists, and Bobbi is surprised to see frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. “You would have been, had I spoken to you like that before. You deserve my respect, a-and I…”

“Jemma,” Bobbi interrupts, reaching out and placing a light hand on Jemma’s shoulder. “I’m not going to… to punish you just for that. You’ve been through so m…”

“But please, Agent Morse… I want you to. I-I need you to!” Simmons states, and tears begin sliding down her cheeks. “I-I don’t want to be treated any differently, I just… I want to pretend that the past six months never happened! Please… just treat me as you would have… before.”

Morse stares at Jemma, her heart sinking. She thinks she understands, but still doesn’t want to do anything about it. “Jemma, I… I really don’t want to…” she begins, but then trails off. As she contemplates the lost young woman before her, she remembers… it’s not about what she wants. It’s about what her charge needs. This is what it is to be an S.O. Beyond teaching, training, and monitoring, a supervising officer must also provide advice, feedback, encouragement and well… pretty much whatever their ward needs at a given time. This includes discipline. While she may not feel that Simmons should be punished for a momentary flare of temper, the tiny biochemist clearly disagrees, and is desperate for the familiarity.

A slight sense of dread grows, and Morse sighs heavily. “Jemma… are you sure?” she asks quietly. “I promise, I’m not upset with you at all.”

But Simmons nods determinedly and takes a step closer to her mentor. “Yes… I-I’m sure.” As another tear rolls down her cheek she adds one word in a whispered plea. “Please.”

Bobbi has never enjoyed disciplining Jemma… using her own considerable physical strength against such a petite, kind, sweet, often soft-spoken young woman just feels wrong. While a piece of her is alarmed by the request from the scientist though, she can still understand the need to be held accountable for one’s actions, and to be able to rely on routines and consequences. Also understandable is a need for atonement if guilt over one’s actions is too strong. And the specialist knows that Jemma is easily plagued by guilt.

Bobbi swallows down the uncomfortable lump in her throat and nods in resignation. “All right,” she whispers regrettably, scooting to the middle of the bench and patting her lap. “Come on.”

A flash of relief crosses Jemma’s anguished face, and she hurries to comply, draping herself over her SO’s knees. “Oh,” she freezes. “Is-is this okay? Does it hurt your knee?”

Bobbi blinks. One look at the slight figure lying meekly over her lap coupled with hearing her ward’s concern for her as she’s about to spank her, and Bobbi’s resolve disappears. “It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt. But honey, I don’t…”

“Please, Agent Morse?” comes a small shaky but determined voice.

A deep breath is taken, then another, and finally Morse sighs, shaking her head. “Okay. Just remember… you literally asked for this.” Before her resolve wavers again, she lifts her hand and brings it back down against the seat of Jemma’s soft black pants.

It’s the petite scientist’s turn to take a deep breath, though she remains still and accepting. Bobbi has to stop herself from apologetically saying, “Oh no, did that hurt?” She actually has to remind herself that that’s kind of the point.

Bobbi soon sets a steady rhythm, applying firm swats at a predictable pace. She knows that she’s not hurting Jemma through the pants, especially based on the young woman’s lack of reaction.

After a minute she pauses, wondering whether she should take Jemma’s pants down. As if reading her SO’s mind, Jemma helps by lifting her hips slightly.

A blond ponytail swings as Morse shakes her head, almost amused. She sighs heavily and complies, gently slipping Jemma’s pants down to her knees.

As the spanking is resumed, both SO and scientist cringe slightly at the new loud sound of flesh smacking flesh, right below Jemma’s light purple underwear. Bobbi feels zero natural compulsion to scold or lecture, but she begins to for her ward’s sake. 

“Jemma… I don’t appreciate the way you spoke to me in the lab,” she states, with no real edge in her voice and only medium force behind her swats. She goes on gently, “I swear, I didn’t tell Fitz anything. I wouldn’t do that. And I’m disappointed that you thought I would… that you feel you can’t trust me.”

This finally starts to chip away at Jemma’s walls, as Morse expected it might. The young woman lets a quiet sob escape and gives a feeble squirm. Even if Bobbi isn’t putting much strength behind these spanks, the scientist is certainly feeling the accumulation now. And as her sensitive skin is even fairer than normal due to months of lack of sun, her rear end has already turned pink.

“I’m sorry,” Simmons whispers shakily.

Hating herself for causing the young woman pain after her horrific ordeal, Bobbi grits her teeth and wills herself to continue. She increases the intensity a bit, though keeps the steady pace, and goes on.

“I deserve and expect more respect from you, honey. And more confidence as well, in the future.”

A few tears streak trails down Jemma’s cheeks. She struggles slightly and then gasps at a particularly harder swat. “Ah. Y-yes, ma’am. I’m sorry!”

Knowing her ward well enough to know that they are finally getting to where she needs to go, Bobbi throws more strength behind the blows at last. “You will *not* speak to me like that again, young lady. You *will* show me respect at all times. Is that clear?” she asks sharply.

“Ohhh… yes, ma’am!”

Bobbi delivers a dozen hard stinging strikes to the sit spots of the small, pink bottom in front of her. The loud smacks echo around the training room, and Morse again hates herself for it.

This onslaught however accomplishes what Jemma ultimately needs. The young woman finally cries out and bursts into tears, completely giving up any fight or need for control. Though her rear end is aching and stinging badly, Jemma can feel the pent-up tension in her body dissipating and the jumbled thoughts in her mind clearing significantly. 

Feeling the change occur in her charge, Morse sighs with relief and slows down the swats considerably. After a few final love pats Bobbi can’t help but switch to rubbing the sore, enflamed bottom gently instead.

“Good girl,” she whispers down in between Jemma’s sobs. “Good girl.”

Jemma feels even lighter at this praise, as if the weight of the world, or several, has finally lifted from her shoulders. Before she has quite caught her breath, she finds herself responding, “thank you. Thank you so much, ma’am. Thank you…”

“Oh honey,” Morse says heavily, surprised by the gratitude and yet feeling awfully guilty at the same time.

Bobbi just leans down to help Jemma up when they both hear a gasp from the doorway. Both turn their heads sharply to see Fitz standing there, his mouth a perfect ‘O’ from shock.

Jemma sighs and hangs her head again as she feels warmth and color grow in her ‘other’ cheeks. Morse cringes and closes her eyes briefly, waiting for the explosion.

“What… the… hell?!” comes Fitz’ loud voice, causing Jemma to squirm slightly in pain at the unaccustomed noise.

“C’mon sweetie,” Bobbi whispers down to her, gently helping her up.

Fitz gets an even better glimpse of Jemma’s dark pink bottom as she rises and gingerly pulls her pants back up, wincing. He approaches the bench furiously, shooting daggers at Bobbi.

“How-how-how…” he stammers, then grits his teeth and takes a moment to find his words. “How could you do that, to her?” he demands loudly. “How, after all she’s been through? How could you hurt her like…”

Her pants now properly back in place, Jemma still winces and clamps her hands over her ears. “Fitz, please,” she begins.

At the same time, Bobbi rises from the bench with her hands held up innocently. “Fitz, this isn’t what it looked like…”

“Ha!” he responds with a derisive laugh. “So then you weren’t just tanning Jemma’s backside while she cried helplessly?” he asks angrily, moving to Jemma and wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders.

“Fitz… stop, please,” Jemma begs, wiping her eyes and turning to look into his blue orbs. “Please… don’t be mad at her. I wasn’t helpless. I-I asked her to punish me,” Jemma admits, her face quite flushed now.

Leopold blinks in disbelief. “What? No… Jemma, you didn’t.” Thinking that the woman he loves must be speaking metaphorically, he turns an accusing gaze back to Bobbi and demands, “what did she even do wrong?”

“Nothing! In my opinion,” Morse answers honestly, only to receive more glares and sounds of disbelief from the engineer.

“Fitz,” Jemma tries again, pleadingly. “Please… I’m all right. I needed this. Truly. I asked Agent Morse to do it… begged her really. And now, if you don’t mind,” she adds carefully, not wanting to hurt his feelings, “this… this is sort of between her and me.”

Fitz stares at both women for several long moments, before finally shaking his head. He leans into Jemma once more and whispers, “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Jemma nods and even manages to give him a watery smile. “Yes Fitz, I’m fine. Please, go on,” she adds gently, nodding toward the door.

Fitz sighs and runs a hand through his hair, mussing it up. He shrugs and starts to head for the door, but not before shooting Bobbi a scathing look.

A heavy sigh escapes the small chemist as she turns back to Bobbi with an embarrassed smile. “I-I’m sorry about that,” Jemma apologizes, sniffling. “Lately he’s being really…”

“Oh honey…” Bobbi cuts her off. “You have got to stop apologizing.”

With that, Morse reaches out and embraces Jemma warmly. She then goes so far as to scoop her up and sit her gently back in her lap. “I’ve had enough apologizing from you, sweetheart,” she murmurs into Jemma’s hair, hugging her close.

Jemma had stiffened just momentarily, but then feels tears well up in her eyes once again as she completely relaxes into the warm embrace. She had forgotten what it was like to feel this safe, this loved and cared for. She sniffles as tears start rolling down her cheeks again.

“Oh nooo,” Bobbi coos softly, planting several kisses to the top of Jemma’s head. She holds the young woman close as she quietly asks, “are you really okay, honey? Are you regretting your request now?”

A tearful laugh escapes Simmons. “Oh no, Agent Morse, not at all. Really.” She pulls away just slightly to look into her SO’s caring eyes. “That was exactly what I needed. I feel so… so much lighter now. I feel like… the gravity of Earth is no longer crushing me, you know? I-I feel safe. It’s been so long since I felt safe…” she trails off, as fresh tears begin to spill.

Morse swallows hard and keeps her strong arms around her charge as the latter cries it out. “I can only imagine,” she acknowledges, rocking Jemma slightly. “But you are now, Jemma. You’re home and you’re safe. You’re safe now,” she coos gently. “In fact, I personally have no intention of letting you out of my sight for the foreseeable future. I won’t let anything happen to you. And… apparently Fitz feels the same way,” she adds sheepishly, with a chuckle.

Jemma manages a chuckle as well and nods. “I think you’re right, ma’am.”

A groan escapes Bobbi and she shoots a playful glare at Jemma. “Jemma Simmons… when are you going to stop with this ‘ma’am’ and ‘Agent Morse’ nonsense?” she teases, helping Jemma up.

A mischievous look alights in Jemma’s brown eyes and she bites her lip. “Um… I’m afraid never, *Agent Morse. I’m sorry… ma’am*.”

Bobbi fakes a gasp and quickly lands one more firm swat against the biochemist’s backside, eliciting a pained moan. “Okay, that’s it, young lady,” she teases again, rising and standing to her full height. “Maybe we need to settle this on the mats.” That suggestion made, Morse moves to the sparring platform and beckons Jemma over, sinking into a defensive stance. “C’mon. Get your sore little butt over here.”

Brown eyes go wide as Simmons starts inching away nervously. “Ohhh, that’s all right, I-I just remembered, I… I… I was going to start some work in the lab and…” trailing off, Jemma makes a sudden mad dash for the door.

“Uh-huh,” Bobbi calls after her. “That’s what I thought!” The agent then laughs quietly and shakes her head as she exits the mats to get some water. ‘Man… being an SO is a wild ride’, she thinks. Then a grin grows. She’s so glad that she can help her ward feel safer, through whatever strange means…

Jemma stops just outside in the hallway and leans back against the brick wall. She too smiles softly as she rubs her sore behind… an action that is not missed by a newcomer to the base.

Jemma looks up and ceases rubbing when she hears footsteps coming down the hall. She blinks in surprise… “May?? Oh, May!” she exclaims, moving toward the woman she wasn’t sure she would see again.

“Simmons.” With a look of relief, Melinda meets Jemma halfway and places hands on her arms, looking her up and down. “Are you all right? How are you?”

Jemma blushes slightly, still not used to so many people making such a fuss over her. “I’m fine, May. I’m… I’m okay, really. Happy to be home.”

May exhales heavily and pulls Jemma into a brief embrace. “Thank god,” she mutters, before starting to pull away again. Before she does so fully though, she pats a warm backside, testing a theory. Much to her expectation, Jemma yelps quietly and winces.

Melinda May shakes her head with a sigh. “Jemma, seriously? You’ve been back for about five minutes, and you’ve already…”

A blush creeps into Jemma’s cheeks again, and she hides it by throwing her arms around May once more. “I know,” she admits. “I know.”

May returns the hug but tsks as well. “I guess some things truly never change,” she teases, pressing a light kiss to Jemma’s cheek as she pulls away again. A familiar smirk playing on her lips, she asks simply, “Coulson?”

“In his office, I believe.”

With a nod, May gives Jemma’s arm one more squeeze, then plants a solid swat on her rear end as she passes. “Try to stay out of trouble,” she teases.

Wincing again, Simmons’ hands fly to rub the sting out of her sore backside. “I’ll do my best, ma’am!” She giggles lightly at the scoff she hears, then sighs again contentedly. Now, some things finally seem to be getting back to normal…

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? Those who get it, get it. :)


End file.
